I need Vault just re-reading it

Glinda--

I just had to search your blog to figure out what happened to us this night. Oh man. Remember Dave? My head hurts just thinking about it.

The wrath of Rod

You know, when I decided to ask for a gym membership for my birthday, I just wasn't thinking clearly. I've gone faithfully for two weeks, and I've actually never begrudged a session. I'm excited about going, ecstatic that I'm running again, and motivated to get me a set of coconuts (deltoids) on those shoulders of mine. I've done everything Rod has asked me to do except for the creatine because that crap is expensive and because it creeps me out. So at today's weigh in, Rod was disappointed. I lost 6 lbs. I'm supposed to gain weight, not lose it. Rod didn't chastise me (which was a shame because his accent is so hot); instead, he looked at me like an owner looks at his dog when she eats junkie vomit (like that one, G?). I just have to "keep at it and add protein supplements to my diet."

I can't afford protein supplements bc thanks to this full time school thing I'm on a fixed income, so I guess I'll have to up my lentil ration. The next weigh in and fat testing thingy is in 2 weeks. Hopefully, I'll pass. It's right at finals, though, so I doubt it.

In other news, the SFV has inspired me to make a gingerbread high rise, only I'm using graham crackers because I'm a cheater and entirely not as cool as she. And I've enjoyed 3 full days of nothingness, during which time I've found a new fascination with jigsaw puzzles online, catching up on reading, watching Firefly,of course, and even scrapbooking. I scrapbooked ONE WHOLE PAGE and then lost interest, but I scrapbooked ONE WHOLE PAGE. I'm so crafty now. I had a candy cane martini while doing it, though, so it gave a whole new meaning to craft night. [Explanation of link: after that tainted night, Glinda and I vowed to do craft nights instead of drinking].

Now, I guess I should work on my final, but I really don't want to. Maybe tomorrow. I'm liking this doing nothing thing.

I'm Tainted--ahhhhhhh

Sweet mother of God. Everytime we go to the Devilport, I am reminded of why we don't go there often. It's because the next day, I'm resigned to eating baked lays, salsa, and "Co-Cola's new energy drink." I've got a Warrior sized headache (going away now that I'm drinking my Co-Cola). Plus, at about 7 this morning, the Warrior took her revenge (something akin to Montezuma's revenge, if you get my drift). Still, an excellent way to celebrate the inaugural year of Warriorday. Here are highlights:

• The trip to Michaels the day before. It's like the poor white trash girl's Tiffany's. I quote Holly Golightly: "Well, when I get [the mean reds] the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!" Everyone was so nice in Michaels, and they even gave me 40% off of my purchase, even though I didn't have a coupon.
• Fried pickles and ranch dressing, dubbed "Warrior Spears"
• Glinda had a Guiness because it was "darksided." I had a 5th avenue because I wanted a 5th avenue; Chuck had a Manhattan (I guess our drinks could represent the East Coast where all the tainted people live); Twoshirts had iced tea (I'm starting to think that he is on the other side--LIGHTSIDED!)
• Discussion of firearms at dinner, just like any redneck family from Ponchatula Parish
• The unveiling of the official Warriorday t-shirts (Edgy's--Gorgyles!; Mine--Slykicks!; Glinda's--Tainted!; and Twoshirts got shafted because I accidentally bought the wrong size. Praxis, your iron on transfer will be in the mail soon).
• Wearing of such tshirts--Glinda in a crew neck--HA!
• Parking situation at Devilport--there is no parking. I don't know where we all parked.
• The menu--very little tainted material to work with. We had to get creative. Twoshirts had Barbie's Bathwater, a drink which he felt "shrunk [his] testicles to the size of [something, I don't remember]." Glinda and I had Pitbull in the SKYY because she is most definitely a Pitbull hovering above everyone. Chuck had Sex at Sunset, when he should've remembered her pithy saying at the radio station, "I promise you won't go blind." During this time, Praxis was fighting with the dryer and Beelzebounce.
• Watching fish porn on TV and screaming, "Get it, Nemo--UH!"
• Some guy from the Merc in NY who flipped his business card at us and begged us not to take his picture just so that we would take his picture. He represented the 15 minutes of fame that the Warrior should've had but that we keep dragging out for her.
• This part didn't happen last night, but I just have to wonder if Corpus Christi will erect a statue of the Warrior. Why, you ask? Because Corpus already has 3 statues in the main square, apparently: Columbus, Jesus, and Selena. Why not the Warrior? Her gap toothed smile and portruding boob would forever be cast in bronze.
• The pictures. ungodly. I'll leave you to Glinda for those.
• Second round of drinks: G--same; Me--Antarctic Blast (It was blue and made no reference to the Warrior, but it was tasty); Edgy--what did Edgy get? And Twoshirts left--LIGHTSIDED. Praxis inadvertently left, too, because both my phone and G's died. We will have to wait for his post.
• Second and a 1/2 round of drinks: Some Pentecostal looking woman came up and offered us an Apple Martini, which Edgy gulped down, the warrior that he is. She wanted 2 ciggies in return, so maybe she wasn't Pentecostal. I think she was a plant from the Warrior--a test of sorts. We turned her dorksided anyway. G and I split another Pitbull. This was bad because any ounce of liquor over 2 drinks in the Devilport is ungodly. [Minor tangent here: One night I was drinking a martini at the D, and Edgy wanted some. We asked for a rocks glass with very little ice. I poured him a full rocks glass of the toxin, and then looked back at my martini glass. It looked virtually untouched. That, my friends, is the power of the Devilport. Do not mock us for only having 2 1/2 drinks]
• discussion of Mary and priests and the This and the That. No moon, though.
• Final departure, with G inviting us over for some wine (good god, I would never have recovered)

Well, folks, Co-Cola did me right. That Vault drink did the trick, and I am "healed." Time to finish cleaning my house now.